Page 83 of Here We Go Again
“You have nothing to feel guilty about.” Rosemary sits up straight and tries not to feel foolish. “I didn’t hook up with you under the delusion that it would actually mean something to you.”
Logan’s expression jars. “Ouch.”
“What? I’m alleviating you of any misguided guilt over plucking my delicate flower, or whatever. I wanted to have sex with you, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. You’re very good at it.” She can’t believe how detached she sounds right now, but that’s the efficiency of her emotional filing system. As soon as she feels a twinge of heartbreak, her brain shoves it down on instinct. “And now that we got it out of our systems, we can just move on.”
“Good,” Logan says, but it doesn’tseemgood. She violently stabs at her brisket like she’s trying to murder it all over again.
“You still seem upset….”
“Astute observation. I wonder if it’s because you just implied that I’m an unfeeling, promiscuous himbo, and that you just used my body for sex?”
“What? That isn’t what I said!” Rosemary finds herself unintentionally raising her voice.
“It’s basically what you just said.”
“You said you felt guilty about having sex with me, and I was only saying what I thought you wanted to hear!”
“The fact that you thinkthatis what I wanted to hear makes me even more furious!”
Rosemary smacks her hands against the table. “How? You’re the one who calls yourself a fuckboy! I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything just because we had sex!”
“Maybe I want to owe you something!” Logan screams back at her. “I don’t feel guilty because we had sex! I feel guilty because I know I’m going to hurt you! But maybe—maybe I want totrynot to. Maybe I want to try to be something with you.”
Rosemary snaps her mouth shut as the dust settles in the wake of that statement. Her brain struggles to process what’s happening, like a frozen computer, and she has to give it a second to do a whole system reboot. By the time she’s back online and aware of her surroundings, Logan is staring at her with a miserable expression. “I—” she starts.
“Excuse me?” A blond man has appeared at the edge of their table. He’s wearing a salmon-colored polo shirt and khakis. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m over there trying to have dinner with my family, and y’all are having a very loud, veryadultconversation, and I’m wondering—”
“I’m going to need you to back the fuck up, homophobe!” Logan erupts, both hands braced on the picnic table like she’s ready for a fight.
The khakis man intensely furrows his brow. “My family is right over there—” He points one table over, and when Rosemary follows his finger, her gaze lands on a South Asian man with glasses giving her an uncomfortable wave. “That is my husband, sitting with our kids.”
Two toddlers are also staring at her, while a newborn screams in horror from inside a stroller.
“Fuck,” Logan says when she realizes her mistake.
“Your family is very beautiful,” Rosemary chokes out in utter humiliation.
“I don’t care if you’re girlfriends or ex-girlfriends or…” He awkwardly tries to puzzle out their relationship but can’t understand what he’s witnessing.That makes two of us, buddy.
“I just wanted to see if you could perhaps stop shouting the word ‘sex’ quite so loudly?”
“Seems like a fair request,” Logan squeaks.
“We should go.” Rosemary stands up with her tray.
“We’re going,” Logan adds.
The khaki man blusters at them some more.
“Sorry!”
“So, so sorry!”
They take turns apologizing to everyone they pass until they’re standing under the pig sign again. Logan looks at her, horror-stricken, and Rosemary can’t help it. She bursts into laughter, lets it bubble up like a fizzy LaCroix, her whole body shaking with it. Logan stares at her for an awkward heartbeat, and then she starts laughing too. Rosemary has to reach out for Logan’s shoulder to keep herself upright as tears start streaming down her face, and for a few minutes, under the stars and sheds, it feels so easy, so simple, like it used to when they would laugh wildly as girls.
But then Logan puts a hand on Rosemary’s waist, and they both stiffen at the contact, and the fight from before comes rushing back in.
They aren’t girls anymore, and nothing is simple.
